


(Going) Down for the Count

by changhyun



Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changhyun/pseuds/changhyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter with an Ayakashi leaves Takeru acting, looking and feeling vampirish. Chiaki's into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Going) Down for the Count

Mako was the first to notice that something was strange about Takeru that day. An attack taken from an Ayakashi left him collapsed on the ground, grunting in pain. Telling the others to continue the battle and tossing Ryunosuke her Origami, she dragged him home herself.

“It’s almost as if he’s got the flu,” she shrugged to the others later, leaning against the wall outside Takeru’s room. “He starts groaning like he’s in terrible pain if the curtains aren’t closed, he’s coming out in sweats... he was even mumbling to himself when I left.”

A small, tortured sob came from Ryunosuke. “I blame myself!” he wailed. “If I’d just taken that attack for him it could be me in there in horrible agony!”

“I bet we’d all prefer that,” Chiaki said, slapping Ryunosuke on the back. Ryunosuke wasn’t so far gone not to glare at him.

“I know some good home remedies for the flu,” Kotoha said, clasping her hands together in concern. “Shall I write them down for the kuroko?”

“I said it’s almost as if he’s got the flu,” Mako replied. “But I’m pretty sure the flu doesn’t give you fangs and a serious thirst for blood.”

There was silence for a moment while the other four stared at her, blinking in incomprehension, confusion and finally disbelief. 

“Nee-san,” Chiaki said finally, scratching the back of his head, “are you saying Takeru’s turned into a vampire? Come on!”

Ryunosuke sank to the ground, choking on his sobs. “If I’d just...! It should have been me who was turned into a member of the undead!” Kotoha knelt beside him, patting him gingerly.

“That’s the thing,” Mako said. “He’s still got a pulse. He’s not... ‘undead’.”

“So he just likes to hole himself up in dark rooms and drink weird fluids? Haha, sounds like some of the guys I know,” Chiaki snorted, elbowing Genta in the ribs. “Eh? Eh?”

Genta didn’t respond, an unusually serious expression on his face. Chiaki sighed. Was nobody going to appreciate how extremely funny he’d just been? “So if he’s like a vampire,” Genta said slowly, “does he need blood?”

“The kuroko seem to think it would calm him down, at least until we can find an actual cure for this,” Mako said.

“I’ll do it!” Ryunosuke yelped, springing to his feet and almost elbowing Kotoha in the face in the process. “Everyone just stand back, I’ve got this.” He began loosening his tie with fumbling, trembling fingers.

 

“He _has_ always been a picky eater,” Jii said as a disappointed Ryunosuke finally gave up and withdrew from Takeru. 

Ryunosuke’s shoulders slumped. “I have a healthy diet, good circulation,” he mumbled, downtrodden, “my blood should be delicious. Oh Tono!” With a muffled weeping noise he threw himself at Takeru’s chest. “I’m so sorry! Tell me what to do to make myself delicious for you!”

Takeru, pale and withdrawn, barely responded. So at least he was still himself, Mako thought.

“Should we just go through the group?” Kotoha suggested meekly. “I don’t mind if it’s for Ton—“

“Leave this to me!” Genta bellowed, jabbing a thumb to his chest. “This is a job for Take-chan’s best friend!” With a steely determination usually saved for battles, he drew close to Takeru, unbuttoned his collar, and exposed a line of tanned skin for Takeru’s appraisal.

Takeru pondered it for a while, pressing one finger against Genta’s pulse point. As he turned Genta’s neck this way and that, Mako had to admit Jii had a point: this was uncomfortably similar to the way Takeru would sometimes sift through food presented to him with his chopsticks, as if inspecting it for stray hairs. After at least a full minute he made his decision and leaned down, baring his teeth. Genta grunted in poorly hidden discomfort as Takeru’s fangs pierced his skin, but Takeru had one arm looped around him, forcing him close, and he was powerless to do anything but squeeze his eyes shut.

Mako glanced at the others doubtfully. Kotoha had politely averted her eyes, patting a softly sniffling Ryunosuke instead, but Chiaki stared in obvious fascination, eyes transfixed on the slim trickle of blood leaking down Genta’s neck.

It was a strange feeling, Genta thought. The pain had subsided, replaced by a light-headed sensation – only Takeru’s hand on his back, its grip painfully urgent, kept him grounded. He let his body go limp in Takeru’s arms, feeling as though he could quite happily drift away—

And then Mako was yanking him out of Takeru’s grip, and Kotoha was pulling Takeru away and Chiaki was pressing his sleeve to the punctures in his neck – “Get bandages, for God’s sake!” he heard Jii snapping. 

“What’s wrong?” he managed.

“We’re going to have to start timing him or something,” Mako said, exchanging worried glances with the others. “He doesn’t know when to stop.” Genta looked at Takeru, how he was absent-mindedly licking spare drops of blood off his chin with a bemused expression; he wasn’t sure what had just happened.

“Not necessarily,” Jii said. “It was his first...” it was a little too disgusting to say ‘meal’, “...time.”

“Someone else should volunteer for next time,” Mako said. “Genta’s lost too much blood.”

“Me!” Chiaki blurted, arm shooting up. “I can ask him to like, sire me or something.”

“Nobody’s siring anyone,” Mako told him firmly. “Kotoha, would you go next?”

Kotoha nodded, only a little trepidation crossing her features. Chiaki scowled.

 

They slept in shifts: Takeru preferred being awake at night, when he could have the blinds open without groaning in pain. Mako talked about setting up a rota to make sure he was fed, ignoring the twin winces from Kotoha and Jii at her phrasing. 

“Sorry Ryunosuke, you can’t be on it,” she said apologetically. “But that’s good!” she added at the sight of Ryunosuke’s crumpling face. “It means you’ll be at your full strength for any Gedoshu attacks.” Ryunosuke didn’t seem particularly cheered by this, but Mako continued anyway. “There must be a supervisor with a stopwatch present whenever Takeru’s feeding on someone. We don’t want any accidents occurring.”

That was the part of it Chiaki hated: the whole supervision thing. There he’d be, clutched to Takeru’s chest, at the point where the pain of it was ebbing away, where his eyes began to glaze over and his head fell back – and someone would bark, “Stop!” There was no living on the edge with these people.

It was easy to do things his own way. Becoming a vampire hadn’t made Takeru any more social, after all; he spent most of his waking hours alone in his room, probably doing something boring like reading. 

Sure enough, when Chiaki strolled in, he was reading, engrossed in some hideously dull looking old tome without pictures or anything. He’d been recently fed – Mako had done the honours – at least, so he’d regained some of his usual colour. Still, there was no ignoring the little points that stuck out over his bottom lip, giving him an almost feline appearance.

“Yo,” Chiaki said, dropping down opposite him.

“You didn’t knock,” Takeru said, without looking up. 

Chiaki blinked. “Nah,” he said. “I think when you’ve been sucking on someone’s neck the whole personal boundaries thing kind of goes out the window.”

The flush across Takeru’s cheeks was unmistakable. Chiaki grinned.

“What’s it like?” he said. “Being all Dracula and crap.”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Takeru replied primly. 

“Whose blood tastes best?” Chiaki said, prodding him in the arm. “You can say mine, I won’t tell.”

Takeru didn’t reply.

“If we leave you in the sun too long will you, like, die? Can you fly and stuff? Hey,” Chiaki prodded Takeru again, this time with his foot. “You’re not eating normal food anymore, right? So do you like, still have bowel functions?”

Takeru finally raised his head. “What?”

“Do you still have to shit, man?”

“Get out.”

“Touchy! Hey,” Chiaki grinned toothily at him. “I know what will make you feel better.” He shrugged his jacket off and tapped his neck’s pulse point.

Takeru looked away. “It’s not time for that yet, there’s still another three hours before I...” he seemed as reluctant to use the word ‘feed’ as Kotoha and Jii were. 

“Yeah, I know,” Chiaki replied, shuffling closer. “This is like a snack.”

“I don’t snack.”

Chiaki snapped the book in Takeru’s lap shut, only grinning more widely when Takeru glared at him. “Come on, you’re a crap excuse for a vampire. I thought vampires jumped at the chance to bite people?”

“I’m not a vampire,” Takeru snapped. “I happen to have become afflicted with some symptoms similar to those of a vampire but I’m not—“ But Chiaki was pushing the book from his lap and replacing it with his own body, until he was comfortably strewn across Takeru, smiling smugly.

Takeru swallowed. He could see Chiaki’s pulse racing beneath the thin, delicate skin of his neck, could feel the heat of him pressing against him. Chiaki was so alive.

“Come on,” Chiaki purred, noticing the look on Takeru’s face, tilting his head back invitingly. “Just a little bit, you can—“

But he didn’t even have to finish. Takeru attacked his throat as if he was starved, fingers digging violently into Chiaki’s shoulders as if he feared Chiaki would escape him. His tongue swiped over a patch of skin, tearing a surprised whine from Chiaki; Takeru usually kept his tongue firmly out of the way when feeding, approaching the job as clinically as one could sucking on someone’s neck. Chiaki gasped, trying to catch his breath. Takeru was practically inhaling his blood, sucking greedily... Chiaki’s head swam as that familiar feeling of euphoria hit. This was the part where someone always yanked him away from Takeru, waving a stopwatch in his face.

But there were no stopwatches to be seen, only Takeru’s hands clutching at him desperately and the sound of his own choked, needy gasps. Chiaki rocked against Takeru, needing more, more, more pressure, faster---he was going to pass out. If he could just hang on a few seconds longer, savour the feeling—

Takeru withdrew, letting his arms fall limply away from Chiaki, who blinked in disconcerted confusion at the sudden loss of contact. 

“You should go now,” Takeru managed, with what seemed like a great amount of effort.

“But—“ Chiaki started, placing a hand against his neck. Takeru gave him a look. Chiaki went.

 

From then on Chiaki was taken off Mako’s rota. Takeru refused him in much the same way he had Ryunosuke, turning his head firmly away at the offer like a child refusing his greens.

“Did you change your diet or something?” Mako said to him, frustrated. The fewer people Takeru deigned to feed on the greater strain it was on them, after all. “Because if so, change it back.” 

“Isn’t this just the worst?” Ryunosuke sniffled to him in passing.

It was to stop Ryunosuke’s constant commiseration sessions with him that Chiaki set out to rid the world of the Ayakashi responsible for Takeru’s affliction once and for all, of course. It had nothing to do with getting Takeru to look him in the eye again. Fortunately without Takeru’s feeding sapping his energy he was back to his usual undefeatable self.

Once the Ayakashi was taken care of, he decided, he’d take its head back to the mansion and demand an hour of vampire roleplay with his grateful Tono.


End file.
